Of The Masks We Wear
by soulache
Summary: Spinelli is heartsick -Spixie-


Spinelli sat on the bench down by the docks, his shoes sweeping the wooden slats as he swung his legs absentmindedly back and forth

Spinelli sat on the bench down by the docks, his shoes sweeping the wooden slats as he swung his legs absentmindedly back and forth. Today had not been a good day for The Jackal; in fact it had been completely and utterly less than superb. Even his trusty laptop provided no comfort or escape from reality, so he left it in its case lying uselessly by his side.

Images flashed through his mind, his thoughts coming in broken fragments: home, his Granny, Georgie, Lulu, and Stone Cold. The gray clouds shifted endlessly above him and that suited him just fine, the sun would not be befitting to such an unusually sombre mood.

"Hey Spinelli," a feminine sing-song voice said from across the docks. Spinelli pulled his gaze up to see frenemy striding towards him. Unceremoniously she plunked herself down to him, her legs swinging in time with his.

"Greetings Maxie," Spinelli mumbled as he trained his gaze unseeingly ahead of him. He watched the water rolling in and out hoping to find some solace in the motion, in the almost soundless sounds.

"Maxie? What? No Wounded Blond One?" Maxie questioned pressing a hand to her chest in mock surprise, or maybe real surprise, he couldn't tell. He always had the feeling she was poking fun at him though.

"I fear not. Not today," he crossed his arms uncomfortably and let an uncharacteristic silence fall over them.

"Come on, Spin. I'd even settle for a Bad Blonde One," she said playfully jabbing her elbow into his side. He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes and caught her sad smile. It seemed as though she was trying to cheer him up.

"I don't mean to seem rude or uncouth Maxie, but I really came here to be alone so I could-"

"Sulk?" Maxie asked in her fake cheerful voice.

"I was going to go with brood. Brood is manlier," Spinelli made a show of squinting his eyes over the horizon stretching patiently before them.

"You know you've almost got that down. Too bad I'm not going away. It's a free country. I can sit here if I want to. You and your bubble will just have to cope," Maxie stated as she began picking at her red nail polish.

"I feel like we've had this conversation before," Spinelli said as he tilted his head. Maxie laughed softly, it sounded musical and faint on the wind. It sounded like a laugh that should've came from anyone but Maxie, but what did he know?

Maxie stretched her legs out straight in front of her and yawned loudly. Spinelli glanced over to notice she looked a little tired. Maxie caught his gaze and ran a hand through her hair awkwardly as if she though a piece was out of place, as if that was the only excuse he could have for looking at her with this expression. The expression he knew must look the same as the one he wore when he began day dreaming of her.

"You look tired," Spinelli tried to observe casually, but somehow it came out sounding concerned.

"Long, long day at work. You look sad," Maxie said simply.

"I suppose one could use that adjective."

"Want to tell me what's wrong?"

The offer caught Spinelli somewhat on unawares. It wasn't that Maxie was self-absorbed or didn't notice that other people had feelings. Maxie liked avoiding the "emotional talks." It was something they had in common, she would rather lash out and he would rather live in a fantasy world.

"I'm just… heartsick," Spinelli said after a moment of quiet deliberation.

"I know a lot about that," Maxie said with a laugh. "Whaddya got? Maybe if you're lucky they can just rip yours out and give you a new one."

"Ha-ha," Spinelli said dryly.

"So you're just having a bad day, huh?" Maxie question seriously as she turned so she could view his profile.

"Yeah, I am. Everything is just…"

"Yeah, I know what you mean," she said as she glanced up towards the sky at the endless gray clouds shifting and cloaking the sky. Briefly she covered her hand with his. "Things will get better."

Spinelli heaved out a sigh. He pulled his beanie out of his bag and put it on, trapping his unruly hair under it. Placing his usual goofy grin on his face. He pulled out his laptop and started clicking away.

"Thank you for your kindness, Wounded Blond One," Spinelli said.

"Oh, whatever you geek," Maxie said as she stood up and then flashed him a quirky smile. Spinelli watched Maxie prance away and he thought of the games they played. The smiles they kept pasted to their faces in hopes for better days, and wondered just how many of Maxie's smiles had been real and how many hadn't been And somehow knowing he wasn't alone in his heartsickness made things a little better, and knowing Maxie was sometimes fake only made her a bit more real to him.

And suddenly The Jackal had a craving for an orange soda…


End file.
